


So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

by amandayouth (nomadicharmony)



Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Disabled Character, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drug Abuse, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, LGBTQ Characters, LGBTQ Themes, Multi, Murder, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, References To FRIENDS, Substance Abuse, chainshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:39:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5571496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicharmony/pseuds/amandayouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after a horrible accident befell them, lovers Lawrence and Adam move into a charming townhouse together on the safer side of town. They make friends with their neighbors, Jill, Amanda, and Lynn, as well as the enigmatic detective who lives in the house next door. However, they find there's one problem with quiet, safe neighborhoods. You're left alone with your own horrendous thoughts, and the consequences of your decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lawrence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lawrence and Adam move into their new apartment and meet some unexpected guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is an idea that has been with me for a long time. Not a *long* time per se, because I haven't even been into the Saw series for that long, but this is an idea that has meant a lot to me since it came to me, and I am trying to do it the most justice that I can. Writing this fic has already been very trying, and I haven't even started! But I intend for this to be one of the best fics I ever write, and if I come out of this with quality work I can be proud of, and with more writing skills under my belt, well...that's all that matters, isn't it?
> 
> Warning in advance, this is kind of a long and dialogue heavy chapter, so a lot of scrolling is implied. Sorry.

“Do you like it?” Adam demanded, turning on his heels to face Lawrence with a cardboard box full of paperback books in his hand.

“...Yes? I think so,” he answered. “Hard to tell when we’ve just gotten here.”

“I want your first impression. Right now.” Adam’s wide eyes were boring into him, and Lawrence knew he had to say something to ease his mind.

“I do like it. Looks very spacious, and I must say, the price is right.” He paused again, trying to figure out the best way to say what was on his mind without offending him. “I just wish you would have let me come to the open house with you instead of surprising me.”

“That was the whole point, though. I wanted to surprise you with someplace really perfect for us.” Adam looked a little defeated, with his messy hair, his scarf askew from the moving process. One side of it was coiled as tightly around his neck as if it were a noose of some kind, the other looked as if it had a mind of its own and sought to jump ship. It was an eerie image, and it didn’t help that it was a Slytherin scarf.

“I can’t believe you still have this old thing,” he mused, picking up the loose end and feeling the soft yarn, worn with many washes.

“It’s not that old. You got it for me right before the first part of  _ Deathly Hallows _ came out, remember? We went to see it together and we both had our little house scarves on and our blazers…”

“We looked like nerd trash,” Lawrence couldn’t help but laugh, unwrapping the scarf from his boyfriend’s thin neck and folding it slowly.

“Excuse me? We are nerd trash, get it right.” Adam stretched up to give his round-faced boyfriend a peck on the cheek, and released him, to pick the box he had been carrying back up. “Come on, geek-boy, come upstairs and sit down.”

“Adam, I’m fine.”

“I don’t want you walking more than you have to, it’s gonna be a long day. I already made the bed.” Adam led him up the stairs, looking over his shoulder ever few seconds to see if he needed help, and each time Lawrence stuck his tongue out at him.

When they got to the top landing, Lawrence poked him in the back of the knee with his cane, causing him to stumble lightly against the doorway.

“What was that about, jerk?” he teased.

“For acting like I’m some kind of feeble old man.” In passing, Lawrence leaned down to kiss his cheek. “I may be an amputee, but for God’s sake I’m not helpless. It’s been a year and you still act like I need Life Alert.”

Adam sighed, unwound the scarf from his neck, and hung it on the knobbed wooden hanger by the door. “I’m sorry, babe. I just haven’t been able to get past what happened. I know I’m being way overprotective, and I wasn’t even there when it happened, I just...I feel like I failed you.”

Lawrence could see the hurt in Adam’s face. The events of that day had fucked his boyfriend over almost as badly as they had fucked him up, and he hated knowing that. He hated knowing that there was never going to be anything he could say to make Adam feel like he wasn’t at fault.

He watched as Adam sat down on the bed, opened the box, and started to rifle through the books inside, most of them old crime novels or classic standbys he’d read through too many times already. Slowly, he turned a couple of them over, and placed them on the bed.

“I honestly could stand to get rid of most of these. Too much clutter, you know,” he murmured in a feeble attempt to change the subject. “We only bought two bookshelves, better to save room, right?” Adam looked up at his boyfriend and forced a smile.

Lawrence didn’t have the heart to bring up the forbidden subject again. They’d done more talking about it in the past few minutes than they had in nearly three months, so he decided to try instead and answer his concerns without touching on the subject again. “I think we can make some room for them. All else fails, you always talk about how pretty neat stacks of books look in the corner of a room.” As he spoke, he walked to the bed and sat beside him, tenderly placing one large hand on his knee. 

Adam looked down at it, and placed his own hand on top of it. The gears behind his forehead were turning, Lawrence could almost see them, like a great vault being opened. That was one of the things he had fallen in love with about Adam. He didn’t share everything, but there was always a great deal going on in that gorgeous bruised mind of his, and Lawrence wanted to know it all.

“Your pinky ring makes you look like a doofus,” he finally said, tapping the stone lightly. “I know you were going for the Jay Gatsby look, but you look like…”

“Like what?” Lawrence pressed. “Rotti Largo? Drexl Spivey?”

“Hmm…” Adam twirled his finger around the stone in the ring, still deliberating.

“Ordell Robbie? I would consider that a compliment, honestly, he might be evil but he’s the best kind.”

“I was thinking the weird rich guy from Bob’s Burgers. Not Kevin Kline, but his brother.”

“I don’t know who that is,” Lawrence answered hesitantly. He assumed, however, that the comparison was unflattering.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You hate fun.” Adam seemed back to his usual self, pressing a smug kiss into the top of Lawrence’s head as he rose to begin stacking the books.

“Now, do you think this extra bedroom will be big enough for your studio?” Lawrence glanced down the hall, looking at the empty room to the west of them. 

“The realtor thought so. She said the owners wouldn’t have a problem with it, since it’s not carpet. I’ll probably put a tarp down anyway, though. Won’t get our deposit back when we move if I get paint all over the damn floor.” 

He ran both hands through his hair in an attempt to fix it, but it seemed to make it worse. It was a common mannerism for him, but Lawrence worried that it meant something specific in this instance. “I mean, if we move. I’m assuming we will, because that’s life, or one of us will, or...” He stopped, catching himself in a negative pattern of thinking as he often did, and suppressing it the best he could. After stopping and pretending to read the back cover of one of the novels in his hand, he turned back to Lawrence and, as he had been doing all day, changed the subject. “I was thinking we could get a futon or just an actual twin bed to put in there, too. Fans to help with the fumes. I know we won’t need a guest room super often, but in case we need it.”

“This will be good. Isn’t this nice? Our own place. Together, finally.” Lawrence looked tenderly at his boyfriend from across the room. He’d been putting this off for years now, and he knew it. He knew that delaying it, especially after the accident, had hurt Adam more than he wanted to let on.

He was convinced sometimes that he had found a better lover than he had ever or would ever deserve. This was one of those times.

“Finally,” Adam agreed.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the end of the evening, everything looked good, but Adam was still slaving over their bedroom, hanging soft twinkling Christmas lights above the bed while Lawrence reclined with a glass of cheap, fruity wine and a Thomas Harris novel. Philip Glass or something similar was playing on the expensive speaker Adam had bought him for Christmas, propped nicely on the windowsill beside some flowers in a handmade vase.

“You can stop for the night, honey,” Lawrence told him, reaching up to take his hand. “We’ll get it tomorrow.”

Adam stuck his tongue out over his shoulder. “I have a vision for this. Let me do what I want.”

“Well, I’m getting tired of you dicking around while I’m trying to relax. You’ve almost made me spill my wine at least four times.”

“Dicking around? I’ll show you dicking around, asshole.” Adam hastily hung the last section of that particular string of lights, and took Lawrence’s wine and novel out of his hand. He was careful to place the bookmark at his page, since that had been the subject of more than one of their fights, and threw all of his weight at his boyfriend.

Lawrence was able to hold him off easily, considering his small stature. He tossed him down onto the bed and began to tickle him, just above his hip-bones on either side, his most sensitive spot. 

Adam began to laugh hysterically, thrashing his thin limbs in an attempt to keep the larger, stronger man at bay.

“Damn it,” he managed to say between laughs, “you’re not supposed to be this much stronger than me still…”

“I’m missing my left foot, not my arms!” Lawrence reminded him, smirking down at his now-helpless boyfriend.

Their tickle-fight gradually dissolved into kissing, as both of the men had suspected it would. They weren’t the usual greedy, lustful kisses they’d trade at the end of an exhausting day, wanting nothing but each other’s bodies. These were purer kisses, tender and comforting. Slow. And the strangest thing? Usually, when kisses were this quiet and pensive, it was because Lawrence was leading the way, forcing Adam to wait. Even so, when Lawrence did this, it was usually only to drive Adam crazy so he would be extra-rough when they finally did get around to making love. Tonight, however, it was Adam who was maintaining the crawlingly slow pace, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Regardless of what this sudden change in tone meant, Lawrence loved feeling his touch in any capacity, so he forced himself to stop reading into these tender gestures and simply enjoy them. They continued to kiss each other until they heard music abruptly start from the backyard, startling them both. 

“What the hell was that?” Adam was trying to sound angry, but his words came out in a whimper. “I was enjoying myself.”

“As was I. I hope this isn’t a regular thing in this neighborhood, I’d hate to have to call in noise complaints every night for the rest of our time here.” Lawrence smoothed his hair in frustration, trying to erase all signs of Adam’s caresses before they inevitably went outside to investigate.

“I pray to God not. I’ll get up and go see what’s going on.” Adam stood, grabbed his shirt from the floor, and got dressed.

“I’ll come with you.” Lawrence was too curious about what kind of people occupied their new neighborhood not to find out for himself just what was going on. 

“You really don’t have to, I’ll be right back up.”

“Too late.” Lawrence had already risen and had started putting his foot back on. Resigned, Adam handed him his cane.

They got halfway down the stairs and were finally close enough to understand what the music was when Adam started laughing. Lawrence, unfamiliar with the song, looked confusedly at him as he leaned on the banister, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and keep himself from laughing.

“They’re listening to fucking  _ Fall Out Boy, _ ” he said finally, managing to compose himself.

“What does that mean?” Lawrence asked.

“It’s that band I like that you hate so much,” Adam answered, pulling the sleeves down on his shit as he proceeded down the stairs. 

“Oh, joy,” Lawrence muttered sarcastically, following him down.

“I like these people already,” Adam mused.

As they went outside, leaving the screened-in back deck to stand out in the crisp late-fall air, they found two surprises.

The first was that there was a trampoline in the middle of their backyard. Adam remembered the realtor saying that the last owners had two school-age children, they’d probably left it by mistake. Nice perk, he supposed. It might throw off Lawrence’s dream garden but they could decorate around it, no problem.

The second surprise was that there were three drunk women kissing and fondling each other on this surprise trampoline in the middle of their backyard.

Lawrence didn’t find women sexually attractive, but even in the poor lighting, consisting only of the porch lights from both sides of the duplex and the odd streetlamp in front of the house, he could see that these three women were exceptionally pretty. There was a blonde with slender but supple curves underneath a short and thin redhead-- or was her hair brown? And lying beside the blonde, laughing heartily between kisses was a beautiful woman with a rich dark complexion and long black hair...in fact, she looked somewhat familiar...as they walked closer, Lawrence realized that she, in fact, looked  _ very  _ familiar…

He couldn’t help but laugh once he realized who it was. “Lynn? Is that you, dear?”

All three heads snapped up, and the redhead tucked her face into the blonde’s shoulder in apparent embarrassment. The blonde pulled a phone from her pocket and turned off the music with a sigh.

“Oh my… fuck,” Lynn groaned. “Lawrence. You live here now.”

“Yes, we just moved in today,” he answered, still chuckling at the coincidence.

“So...who is this..?” Adam asked hesitantly, looking to his boyfriend in confusion.

“Right, sorry. Adam, this is Dr. Lynn Denlon, she’s one of my colleagues at the hospital.” Lawrence put his hand on Adam’s shoulder gently before continuing. “And this is Adam, by the way. The boyfriend I tell you about.”

Unsure of what to do or say, Adam offered his hand to shake, and was pleased when Lynn returned the gesture. “Good to meet you,” he said finally. “And you guys are?” he asked, looking towards the other two women.

“I’m Jill, and this is Amanda,” the blonde answered. “We’re her roommates.”

“Yeah, um, sorry about this. Nobody’s lived here for three months and so we just kind of...come over here once we get tipsy and have fun, and we were all out today so I guess we didn’t hear the moving truck. I’m… so sorry, again.” Lynn laughed nervously, looking at everything but Lawrence and Adam.

“It’s fine. Listen, do you ladies want to come in and have some coffee or something?” Lawrence asked.

“Or at least some water and aspirin, so you don’t get hit with a hangover in the morning,” Adam half-joked, trying to pull an unruly thread from the hem of his shirt sleeve. Amanda, noticing his struggle, silently leaned over and snapped it for him with her long, sharp almond-shaped nails. He thanked her quietly, and she smiled back.

“We’d love that, sure,” Lynn replied, taking her long, dark hair and pulling it back into a ponytail. 

Lawrence couldn’t help but be a little proud of himself and Adam, already hosting guests, like real adults. Didn’t matter that his guests were drunk, that he was a little buzzed himself, or that this had all happened because they had found the neighbors making out to Fall Out Boy music on the trampoline that was apparently in their backyard. What a day.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sorry the kitchen isn’t quite up to snuff yet,” Lawrence apologized, handing out coffee cups to the three disheveled guests sitting at stools at the bar counter. “We found out today we lost some things in the move, but not after digging through every kitchen box we brought.”

“Not a problem. Besides, it looks great considering you just moved in today,” Lynn answered, accepting the cup graciously.

“Thanks. Sugar, creamer?” he called from the fridge as he dug through their newly-purchased groceries.

“I’ll take some, thanks,” Amanda replied, in a surprisingly husky voice.

Adam handed her the sugar shaker, which she accepted graciously, thanking him at a quiet volume. Jill and Lynn took theirs black, Lawrence noticed. 

“You’re a doctor, I know,” Adam said, motioning toward Lynn, “but what do you two do?”

“I’m a counselor in a drug rehabilitation clinic,” Jill answered, letting her hand slide softly onto Amanda’s knee, under the counter. “And Amanda, who I am very proud of,  is going back to school to finish her engineering degree.” She leaned over and kissed the other woman’s cheek softly, and everyone watched as Amanda’s pale cheeks grew pink under her lips.

“I got to my junior year first time around and had kind of a breakdown, along with some family problems. Ended up having to take a couple years off, but I’m back to it now, with her help,” she explained, still blushing furiously. 

“I hadn’t gathered that you two were together,” Lawrence mused, smiling fondly at the clearly smitten couple.

“You two are cute,” Adam teased them, as Jill leaned over to rest on Amanda’s shoulder. “A little obnoxiously so, but I don’t think I have room to talk there. Everybody can tell that Larry and I are hopeless, we’ve been getting made fun of since college.”

“Tell us how you met!” Lynn insisted. “I’m a sucker for those kinds of stories.”

“There isn’t much to tell, in all honesty,” Lawrence answered. “I was working in a coffee shop on campus to get through the last couple years of med school. Adam was almost done with his degree, and he started coming in every day to pester me.”

“I didn’t start going there to pester you!” Adam insisted. “I was working in an office in the Art Department and I ended up being the fall guy who always had to get coffee for everyone. So they’d send me in with a notepad and I’d have to list off all these complicated orders and Lawrence hated me. I mean,  _ hated  _ me. He’d do this angry face when I walked in, but he was so cute and twinky I couldn’t take him seriously.”

“I was never twinky.”

“You were super twinky when we met, and you know it. You were skinny and you had the long swishy hair, you looked like Dread Pirate Roberts in a gay bar.”

“You still look a little twinky, I have to admit,” Lynn murmured, looking down into her coffee with a sly smile.

“He looks more like a bear to me now. He’s bulked up, he’s got a strong jaw. He’s not a full-out bear, you know, he’s not even a brunette, but he’s kind of…” Jill hesitated, looking for the right word.

“A twink-bear?” Amanda asked.

All five fell into hysterical laughter immediately.

“There’s no such thing as a twink-bear,” Lawrence tried to explain.

“Yes, there is, it’s like a sea bear. To keep them away, you have to draw like, a twink-bear circle and stand in it and chant,” Adam joked.

“No, he’s right. Twinks and bears are opposite ends of the gay-man spectrum. You can’t have a twink and a bear at the same time, technically,” Lynn agreed.

“Then what do I call you? My aging twink boyfriend?” Adam asked.

“That would be more accurate than calling me a twink-bear,” Lawrence answered with a laugh, pressing a gentle kiss into his boyfriend’s forehead.

“Okay, enough of this, let me finish the story,” Adam insisted, kissing him once more before continuing.  “Well, soon I started going in between classes, going in as often as I could to figure out his shifts,” Adam answered. “I found out he worked a lot of nights, and I would go and visit him a lot and soon…”

“I got fed up with not being sure if he was flirting or making fun of me and I asked him if he was gay,” Lawrence finished.

“I said yes, asked him on a date and here we are,” Adam explained, as he poured himself more coffee. “It’s funny how things happen.”

“You know what this means, right?” Lawrence asked, glancing between Jill and Amanda.

“What’s that?” Jill asked.

“A story for a story.  _ Quid pro quo,  _ Clarice. Tell us how the two of you met,” Lawrence suggested, taking a sip of Adam’s coffee quickly before the shorter man could take it back from him.

“Well, where do we begin?” Jill looked fondly at her girlfriend.

“From the beginning, I guess? You were still going through the divorce, and I was working at that bar…”

“Yeah. So I’m bisexual, or I guess pansexual, really, and two years back, I went through a divorce. I was married to an older man, and there was… a loss in the family that made things hard, but we split on amicable terms. And it was seriously only two weeks after the divorce papers got signed that I realized I was tired of men, I had been with John for years and I hadn’t been with a woman since college, and I wanted to find a girlfriend. There’s a freedom, to me, that comes with being with a woman, something that makes communication easier. This mutual understanding, I don’t know how to explain it...anyway,” she interrupted herself, “only two weeks after the divorce I went to this sapphic bar downtown. I guess you’d call it a lesbian bar, but I’m not a lesbian, so whatever. Anyway, I go in and sit at the bar and try not to look like I’m desperate. I order a martini and there’s this gorgeous bartender in a slinky black dress and I’m absolutely fucked from the get-go.”

Amanda smiled back at her tenderly. “Of course, I thought she was cute. But this dummy still had her ring on when she came to the bar, and I didn’t want to hit on her, because I thought she was still married, but I needed a good tip so I tried to strike the right balance between making polite conversation and flirting a little.”

“After thirty minutes or so, she finally got the courage up to ask about the ring, and I was so embarrassed.” Jill shook her head and laughed, her blonde curls tossing as she spoke.

“But I felt better, knowing I wasn’t moving in on somebody’s wife. And with that, I went in for the kill…” Amanda pulled Jill closer to her, almost pulling her off the stool, leaving everyone once more in tipsy laughter.

Finally, after twenty more minutes of scattered conversation, and a few more twink jokes at poor Lawrence’s expense, everyone bid each other goodnight, and the women wrote their phone numbers on the notepad in the kitchen, so they could keep in touch.

When Lawrence stood over the notepad after they left to put the numbers in his phone, he saw that one of them had drawn a teddy bear with Justin Bieber hair and labeled it “Lawrence the Twink Bear.” He tried not to dignify the drawing with a laugh, but he couldn’t help himself.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s so cute that we’re getting along with our neighbors,” Adam mused as they began to fall asleep, flicking his boyfriend’s nipple absently as he spoke. “It’s like  _ Friends. _ ”

“We’re missing one more guy,” Lawrence murmured. “We need three and three for it to be  _ Friends. _ ”

“We’ll find one,” Adam mumbled, snuggling closer into him before falling asleep.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’d both taken the weekend off, to give them time to rest up from the move. They didn’t get up as early as they had planned, but after sharing a shower, they went their separate ways. Adam retired to his studio to paint, and Lawrence seated himself at the desk in the bedroom to do some more work on what Adam teasingly called “his baby.”

_ Another morning, like all those before, and presumably all those after. _

__ _ He rose. He couldn’t remember anything about the previous day at first, but after his first daily sacrifice to the all-powerful deity, Caffeine, he realized that his lover was gone. She had stolen away into the night. For “work.” Sure. Work. If work meant what he thought it meant-- _

 

__ “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Adam called from the doorway, scrubbing absently at a paint smudge marring his chin, “why did you make me a girl in your story?”

“The lover figure isn’t based off you, it’s an allegory for compulsory heterosexuality,” he answered, continuing to type. 

“Okay. Still feels really self-insert-y, but okay.” Adam walked over to where he sat, in order to read over his shoulder. “Besides, women suffer from compulsory heterosexuality than men do. And you know it.”

“Self-insert-y, my ass,” Lawrence retorted. 

“I know your ass inside and out, Larry. I also know that your novel is very self-insert-y. More self-insert-y than you on nights I’m out doing photoshoots.”

Even though there was no audience for Adam’s salacious comment, Lawrence still felt his face grow warm. “That was not necessary, and you know it.”

“The world needs the truth!” In a gesture that was probably supposed to be affection, Adam pressed his paint-covered fingers into his boyfriend’s soft cheeks and ran back to his studio with a laugh.

“Please, Adam! If I wanted to babysit, I’d invite your sister over!”

“If I wanted to babysit, I’d...still be in the same room as you!” Adam yelled from his studio in a weak attempt at a comeback.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute!” Lawrence shot back.

“You’re lucky you’re so fucking handsome and I still love you just as much as I did when we first started dating!” Their playfight was getting too sickeningly sweet, and Lawrence had to end it. Quickly checking to see if he was wearing pajamas that he didn’t mind getting paint on, he got up and walked quickly to the room where Adam was painting.

“Well, you, sir, are lucky that I’m so in love with you I can’t think straight.” He grabbed the younger man’s angular face and pulled him in for a kiss. Adam kissed back as passionately as he could under the circumstances-- he was, after all, trying his hardest not to get paint on his boyfriend. He pulled back with a laugh, pressing his forehead against his. “And for the record, I can already tell that moving in with you was one of the best decisions I have ever made.”

“Shut up, you sap,” Adam teased, stretching up onto his tiptoes to kiss him again. “Let me paint. Go back to your overly self-referential novel, you little twink-bear.”

“If calling me a twink-bear becomes a regular thing around here, someone is going to pay,” he threatened as he went back to his seat.

An hour later, during a bout of restlessness and writer’s block, Lawrence went out to check the mail, and as he did so, a car pulled into the house next door to him, and a tired-looking Greek man in a trenchcoat got out of the car with a huff.

He tried not to be obvious as he watched the man lock his car door, pace hastily to the mailbox, remove some bills and walk to his car, but the man was handsome. Grumpy, yes. In need of some rest and a shower? Most definitely. But despite all this, he was good-looking.

Walking back to the front door with a small, private smile, he made a mental note to himself to ask one of the girls what his name was later. He and Adam were always looking for someone to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also of note: I am able-bodied myself, but I chose to retain Lawrence's canon injury because we don't have enough disabled characters (physically or mentally) that are positive representation, and I felt like erasing that representation in this fic would be unforgivable. That being said, I am able-bodied so please, please correct me if I step into any kind of ableist territory. I want to take away from harmful stereotypes, not further perpetuate them.
> 
> Thanks for reading! My other chaptered fic is more than likely going to take priority over this one as far as frequency of updates, but I promise I won't forget about this one. Reviews are always, always, always welcome. Thanks again!


	2. Lynn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lynn and Lawrence's friendship deepens, and Lynn also spends some quality time with another neighbor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: sexual content and just... a really weird pairing...

Lynn and Lawrence started eating lunch together when their shifts overlapped, splitting meals and gossiping like old women. The hospital district downtown was full of little family-run food places, and they made it a goal to visit as many of them as they could together.

Their colleagues would laugh fondly as they left the hospital, arm-in-arm, chattering absently. Some of them had started calling them “Betty and Veronica,” and eventually they decided, after much animated discussion, that Lawrence was Betty and Lynn was Veronica.

One day, he asked about Mark and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? I just want to know who he is,” Lawrence insisted with an unconscious pout, as he reached for one of the cheese fries they were sharing.

“You want to know about the guy next door? The detective?”

“Is that what he is?”

“Yes. He’s a detective.” Lynn sighed, and took a sip of her soda. “Where do I begin with regards to Detective Mark Hoffman…”

“Did you say Mark Harmon?”

“No, honey. I think you left your hearing aid off from earlier.” She made a twisting motion next to her ear, and Lawrence, realizing his mistake, switched his aid back on. 

“Sorry. What’s his name?”

“Mark Hoffman. He’s a detective. He’s made his rounds in more than one sense of the word, I suppose you could say…” She leaned back from the table as she spoke, to tie her hair up in a bun before she began to eat.

“I need more details than that, Ronnie,” Lawrence chided her, picking up an olive that had fallen off his sandwich and tossing it at her. 

“Okay, okay! Well, he hooks up with Jill and Amanda on the regular. Me, too, if I’m going to be honest with you... He’s really good, actually , knows what he’s doing…”

She saw the mischievous sparkle in his eyes die. “Yes, okay, that’s lovely. So he’s straight.”

“No, not straight. He’s into men, too.”

The blonde doctor perked back up instantly. “Is he… well... How do I ask this politely…”

She rolled her eyes. For someone as sex-hungry as Lawrence tended to be, he was horrible at talking about it. “He’s a top, Larry.”

“Oh, thank God.” Lawrence looked up at the ceiling as if overwhelmed by the thought.

“You mean, you just saw this guy and instantly wanted to screw him?” Lynn asked.

“Yes. I mean, I thought I made that sufficiently clear.”

“What about Adam?”

“Adam will probably want to screw him, too, but I don’t know how that will go since he prefers to be on top as well. I’ll try him out first and see how that goes.”

“I’m confused. So you want to have a threesome? Or you’re polyamorous?” Noticing how into the cheese fries he was, she took a few for herself before he could demolish them.

“Well, I don’t necessarily know if we would call ourselves polyamorous. Our primary commitment has always been to each other, but we both crave sexual variety, so we allow each other to have other people. Neither of us capitalize on it often, especially not since the accident, but it’s nice having the option.” Lawrence had picked up a fry and found that it wasn’t very cheesy at all, and so he dipped it in a puddle of cheese sauce that lay untouched in the corner of the fry basket.

Lynn cleared her throat, trying to prepare herself to ask a potentially uncomfortable question that had been burning in her mind since she met him. (On top of that, he looked so devoted to their cheese fries that she needed to get his attention away from them.) “So...you absolutely don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but I am curious. How...how did you get hurt?”

Lawrence brushed aside a stray blonde hair and smiled. “No, it’s fine. Um, do you remember hearing about the bombing that happened at St. James Hospital across town last year?”

Lynn’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

“Yup. I was working that day, and I was… relatively close to the damned thing when it went off. I don’t have many memories of it, thank God; they said I went unconscious as soon as the bomb went off. I woke up in a hospital bed with Adam asleep in one of those horrible, uncomfortable chairs next to me and his head on my stomach. His face was so red, and the tears were still fresh.” There was a look on his face she didn’t know how to interpret.

Lynn looked down silently, not knowing what to say in response.

“We’d had a fight that morning, after I stayed the night with him,” Lawrence continued, “and so I’d gone into work an hour early. Just to sit in the breakroom and fume. If I hadn’t gone in early, I wouldn’t have been there when the bomb went off, and Adam has blamed himself ever since. So I guess I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring it up around him.”

“Of course,” Lynn answered, still baffled by this surprising revelation.

“I’m honestly very lucky to have gotten off as easily as I did. A simple amputation, a slight loss of hearing in the left ear. Shrapnel in my arm, easily removed, left little scars but nothing major… my so-called twinky face still unharmed, somehow.”

Lynn was able to laugh a little at that, but she was still shaken.

“And it’s better now, now that we live together,” he mused. “Now that I can hold him at any time of the night without having to get on the subway or get in my car, now that he’s always here. We used to miss each other so much sometimes we wanted to die.”

Lynn laughed. “He doesn’t look like the super-committed, desperately-in-love type, now, does he?”

“No, but he is. And so am I.” Lawrence stirred his iced tea with his straw, smiling down into it. “Of course…” he paused, looking up at Lynn with a smirk on his face, “that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and hook me up with that handsome detective.” 

“Handsome? Ha. I’ll do my best.” Lynn found the olive he had thrown at her earlier and returned it with a sharp toss. It bounced against his high forehead, causing them both to laugh.

“You promise?” Lawrence demanded.

“I promise,” she groaned. “Now hush up and let me eat.”

\---

She didn’t realize how soon she’d have the opportunity to keep her promise.

Jill and Amanda went to the coffee-shop that night. Amanda had homework, and Jill had things she needed to get done as well, so they had elected to go on one of their old coffee-and-dinner dates, promising to bring back Steak and Shake for Lynn.

They always worried that she would feel left out when they went on these kinds of dates, and it was almost comical. She’d lived with the both of them for a year and they still hadn’t caught on to the fact that she  _ loved  _ having the house to herself. It was the perfect time to snuggle up on the sofa in the skimpiest lingerie she owned, so she could feel sexy without raising questions about “who she was seeing,” and watch her guilty-pleasure TV shows on the big TV in the living room. 

It was going to be the night of finally finishing  _ Twin Peaks _ , and swiping through her dating app of choice to see who she could flirt with until there was a knock at the door.

She paused to put on her robe, listening as the knock repeated. It was far too sharp to be Adam, and Betty never knocked anymore. Besides, if she remembered right, Adam used the doorbell more often than not.

She smirked. Of course. Her one night alone and  _ he  _ would show up.

Tying the robe closed, she opened the door and Mark was there. He’d discarded his tie and jacket from work, and untucked his blue collared shirt. He’d even mussed his hair for the sake of looking casual.

She rolled her eyes. “The girls told you I was home alone?”

“Yeah,” he answered, looking down as if to mimic shyness. “I hope I’m not bothering you…”

“Drop the act, Mark. Come inside, it’s freezing.” She stepped aside to let him in, and as he began to walk past, he stopped, hovering close to her face as if waiting for permission. She lifted her face to kiss him, and now that he was satisfied, he entered the house.

“Sit down, let me make you some tea,” she insisted, pushing his shoulders down as he reclined on the couch.

“I don’t need any, thanks,” he replied.

“Too bad. You’re gonna drink some because I don’t want to make a whole pot for myself.” She stopped in her tracks, just before arriving in the kitchen. “Cream Earl Grey, or green with pomegranate?”

“The green, if you don’t mind,” he answered, smiling fondly at her as she retreated to the kitchen.

“If you’re going to follow me in here, at least pause the show,” she said over her shoulder as she crossed the doorway. “I’m actually trying to pay attention to this one.”

Obediently, he picked up the remote and hit pause before coming into the kitchen with her.

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” he murmured, sitting down at the small kitchen table as she dug through the cabinet to find the kettle.

“What don’t you understand?”

“You’re so cold, but you still seem to want my company,” he mused. “You’re unreadable.”

“Then maybe quit trying to read between the lines and enjoy the text that I provide you with,” she teased, allowing a small smile to cross her lips. “So they had you on the day shift today. All-nighter last night?

He laughed bitterly. “Fucking Matthews. I’m gonna kill him one day, I swear it.”

“What are you allowed to tell me about the case?”

“Next to nothing. It’s a murder. Every other detail is either confidential, in hopes of weeding out false confessions, or something we don’t know yet.” Hoffman let his square jaw rest in his large, rough hands, and stared down at the faux-mahogany table in front of him with a vacant expression. “I just want all of this to be over for a while.”

“And so, you come over here for your diversions,” Lynn observed.

“Well, three beautiful women in one house, all of whom are willing to put up with my shit to various degrees? Pretty excellent diversions.” He let his eyes run over her body, and his full lips bent into a smirk. “Especially considering what you do when you’re alone.”

“And what do I do when I’m alone?”

Mark tried to hold back his smirk. “I’m told that when you’re in the house by yourself, you wear your best negligee and red lipstick. Just to feel sexy. And I’m told sometimes, while you wear that naughty lacy stuff and that delicious red lipstick, that you lie across that big bed of yours with your legs spread, and you use that little pink vibrator on yourself. I would give anything to watch this time.”

Lynn rubbed her lips together, unable to remember if she’d actually put on lipstick tonight. She had, indeed. And she could see, in her mind’s eye, right where the vibrator was.

“Does it work?” he asked. “Do you feel sexy, under that robe?”

“Yes, because I am sexy,” she answered, pouring the now-finished tea.

“You most definitely are,” he agreed.

“It doesn’t turn you off to hear me say that about myself?” she asked coyly.

“Why would it? It’s the truth,” he murmured, as she walked around the island counter to seat herself on his lap.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked, placing the mug in front of him just as he began to kiss along her warm, vulnerable neck.

He gasped in mock hurt. “You’re so mean. Getting me excited for no reason like that…”

“I’ll give it up eventually, I promise,” she whispered, pressing red kisses onto his sunken cheeks. “I would have made you go back home if I didn’t want any…” She gave him a few more slow, teasing kisses before continuing. “Just come out and watch some TV with me before we start on any of that. Let’s make a dent in this tea…”

He followed her out to the living room with the teapot. She didn’t bother grabbing another mug-- they shared the one amicably enough. He lay across the couch, kicking off his shoes, and she reclined in the empty space between him and the back of the sofa.

“I never got into  _ Twin Peaks  _ myself,” he murmured, as she let her head settle onto his chest. “Too strange.”

“What, do you watch crime shows all day?” she asked, fidgeting with the top button of his shirt.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. That’s what I know, that makes sense to me.” Mark almost fell off the couch trying to reach their shared tea mug without moving Lynn, but somehow he managed, and brought it to his lips. “This stuff is good. More soothing than coffee.”

“Maybe that’s why you hate Matthews so much. You’re drinking too much caffeine in the daytime, which makes you more irritable.” She looked up at him with half- closed eyes, taking the mug from him and sitting up to refill it.

“No, I hate Matthews because he’s a fucking prick,” Hoffman retorted, kissing the top of her head as she sat up. “You should hear about the shit he does…”

“Like what?”

“Well, he abandoned this gorgeous little wife of his and his two-year-old kid to move in with another detective, and now he’s not even treating her well. Which pisses me the fuck off, they’re both great women and he’s taking them for fucking granted.” He cuddled closer to Lynn, as if unconsciously trying to protect her from Matthews. “He’s been getting a whole fucking lot of heroin and meth convictions lately, and I’m not the only one who’s suspicious of him, but none of us have any proof.”

“Wait, who else is suspicious?” Lynn asked, already lost between trying to pay attention to the show and to him at the same time.

“All of us. Sing, Rigg. Kerry was, before he started jumping her bones. Even Tapp, and Tapp is the oldest and smartest of all of us. We’re all just waiting for him to slip up, so we can get his ass fired.” Mark pulled her into his lap, and started to kiss the side of her face hungrily. “Let's not think about this anymore tonight. It's my night off. Please, let's just go make love.”

“Make love?” She pulled his hair slightly to get a good look at his face. 

“Make love. Have sex. Fuck. Whatever you want to call it. Whatever it is, I want it. Badly. And from you.” Mark’s hands were all over her now. 

Lynn deliberated for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she was ready to stop watching the show for now. She was so comfortable on the sofa, but his touch was sending little flashes of fire through her body, making her crazy, making her want to rip his pants off then and there and just have him.

She gave him the signal, a sharp bite to the earlobe, and he knew exactly what that meant.

She let him carry her off to the bedroom, where the robe came off almost instantly, and his little vibrator fantasy came true.

\---

“You know, I know someone who wants to fuck you,” she murmured absently, as they lay in her bed with the lights off, watching the window as the faint reflections of car headlights gleamed from afar. People were moving around in other parts of the city. Not here.

“Oh, yeah?” His hands were busy under the covers, exploring from her breasts to her thighs. “I hope it’s you.”

“Well, that goes without saying. I meant someone else. Someone new.” Lynn shifted to allow his hands better purchase on her skin.

“Tell me about them.”

“He’s a friend of mine. A doctor. He just moved into the other half of the house. He thinks you’re pretty hot.” Lynn rolled over to face him, in order to properly evaluate his reaction.

“I mean, sounds good so far, but that still doesn’t tell me much about him. How old is he, what does he look like?”

“He’s 28, if I remember right. His name’s Lawrence. If you’ll reach over and get my phone off the nightstand, I can show you.”

He placed the phone gently in her hands and pulled up Lawrence’s Facebook account to show him what he looked like. Since Adam was primarily a photographer, most of the photos in Lawrence’s albums were extremely flattering, and she could see that Mark was already attracted to him.

“He’s not half bad. Did I see a boyfriend in these pictures, though?”

“They’re open. He was telling me that just today.”

“The boyfriend isn’t ugly either, let me see him again,” Mark asked, snuggling into Lynn as she hunted for a picture of Adam. When she found one of the two of them together, she handed him the phone and watched as he evaluated the other man.

“He is pretty cute,” Mark mused. “He’s a little small for my tastes, a little skinny, but he has a good face. I’ll take both of them.”

“That one’s a top, though,” she murmured, motioning toward Adam.

“Ah, well. We’ll work it out.” Mark took the phone out of her hands, and pulled her in close, kissing her cheeks and forehead while she laughed. “I want to focus on you tonight, though.”

“You may as well spend the night. It’s late,” she murmured offhandedly.

“It’s eight o’clock, Lynn.” He nestled into her, laughing when she appeared to blush. “If you want me to spend the night, baby, just ask.”

“Don’t call me baby,” she insisted, rolling away teasingly. 

“Okay. What can I call you?”

“Any other pet name on Earth,” she mumbled into her pillow, lying facedown on the bed trying to get comfortable.

“I’ll call you my angel,” he murmured softly, playing in her dark hair.

“Actually, not that one either. It feels weird.”

“Sweetheart?” He was tentative this time, watching her face in order to evaluate her reaction.

“Nope.” Playfully, she ran her finger along the curve of his lower lip.

“Honey?” He was getting fed up at this point, and his frustration, when at manageable levels, was endearing.

“Actually, screw pet names. None of them sound right coming from you.” Lynn turned over again, desperately trying to find the right position to stay comfortable.

“You act like I’m this stoic, emotionless being who should never express affection.”

“But you are.” Lynn stuck her tongue out, and he caught her in a kiss.

“I’m your favorite emotionless being, though, right?” he asked.

“Whatever you want to believe, Mark. Whatever makes you happy.” 

He pulled her in tight and kissed her cheek with a tender touch. “Alright, kiddo. That means you.”

“What does?”

“You said whatever makes me happy. And you make me happy.”

“Ugh.” She fake-gagged as he pressed another kiss into the back of her neck. “You really should stop being such a damn sap.”

“You should be glad I feel anything at all today,” he mused. “That’s getting rarer these days.”

She rubbed the back of his hand softly, and he lifted it to her lips. Barely moving, she kissed the tips of her fingers.

“Do you know what you feel like?” he asked her softly.

“What’s that?”

“You feel like a door. A closed door, but the key is right there in the keyhole, waiting for me.”

“What the hell does that mean?” she asked, taking his hand and placing it against the side of your face.

“I’m not completely sure, but I like it,” he mused, before nuzzling into her back and falling silent.

\---

He fell asleep soon after that, holding her close. She turned a lamp on to read, and let him snooze away beside her. The sound of his heavy, slow breathing brought a peacefulness to the room that made the quiet bearable.

She would look down at him from time to time, and brush a loose piece of hair out of his face. He wasn’t wildly good-looking, not in her mind, but he had a certain something about him that made up for it; a distinct and evident charisma. And he looked so peaceful when he slept. 

At about 10, there was a soft knock at the door, and Amanda came in with a burger and fries arranged nicely on a plastic plate, and a large orange soda in her other hand. The cat followed her, instantly jumping into the crook of Hoffman’s arm and curling up with him, closing her wide blue eyes again.

“I forgot to bring something for your guest, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be waking up anytime soon.” Amanda winked at her as she walked around the bed to bring her the food.

“You two are awful,” Lynn told her, snatching a pinch of fries from the plate and dropping them into her mouth.

“We’re not awful. Both of you needed to get laid again, you’ve enjoyed each other in the past, and it’s clear that he likes you,” she insisted, seating herself at the foot of the bed.

“Bullshit.” Lynn pulled her hair up into a loose bun. “I’m trying to get him to hook up with Lawrence sometime soon. He is all about it, and I think Mark is down for it.”

“Nice. I can see that working out pretty well,” she murmured, reaching over to stroke the top of the little cat’s majestic head. “He’d like Adam, too, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know how sexually compatible they would be, but they’d get along,” Lynn agreed. “Whose turn is it to feed Wolfie in the morning?”

“Jill’s turn.”

“Are we good on kitty food? Do I need to go get some tomorrow?”

“Nah, I got some after class yesterday, we’re good.” Amanda looked at Mark’s sleeping face and back up at Lynn, who was digging into her burger.

“You are so pretty,” she murmured as if stunned.

Lynn stopped mid-bite and looked at her, instantly self-conscious. 

“What did I do?” she asked after swallowing her bite.

“You just  _ are.  _ You’re so pretty. How do people function around you?”

“I...don’t know? Normally, I guess?” Lynn couldn’t help but laugh a little at the concept that she was prettier than the average person. 

“Wow. You know, you wonder why Mark is so into you but like… you’re smart, you’re funny. You’re so fucking gorgeous. How could he not be?”

Lynn rolled her eyes and took another bite. “You are ridiculous.”

“And you,” Amanda murmured, “are divine.”

Amanda kissed her forehead softly as she was prone to doing, petted Woolf one last time, stroked the back of Mark’s hand, and left the room.

When she left, Woolf stretched her petite front legs and skipped daintily after her. At this point, Lynn was finally tired, so she turned off the lamp, pressed play on a classical CD, and snuggled into Mark’s side. Even in sleep, he drew her close and pressed his face into her chest with a gentle whimper. What a big baby, she thought to herself as she kissed his forehead and closed her eyes for the night.

\---

With no work the next day for either of them, she had the opportunity to sleep in and cling to Mark’s snoozing form, but alertness came at six am and, though she tried to fight it, she could not go back to sleep. Getting up didn’t seem to be an option either, as Mark was still wound tightly around her, so she turned her lamp back on and began to read again.

Jill poked her head in the door with coffee before she left for work, and Amanda checked on them as well before leaving for her class. Shortly after they left, his grip loosened enough for her to get up and make the trek downstairs for breakfast. It seemed like an eggs kind of day. Mark didn’t like eggs, but she’d offer him some toast or whatever if he woke up soon…

Which he did, of course. He came downstairs in nothing but his boxers and rolled a joint for the two of them to share, which she accepted. They sat in silence for a while, eating breakfast, passing it back and forth to each other.

“Where do you get your weed from?” Lynn asked quietly, getting up to pour the two of them some orange juice.

“Ah, this kid who works at the tattoo place by the university. I don’t know his name.” Mark tapped his fingers on the table as if trying to remember. “It’s good, though. He grows it himself, I’ve been buying it from him since before they legalized it.”

“You should get me in touch with him sometime,” Lynn mused. “I could use more of this stuff.”

“Yeah, I will.” He took another hit and smiled. “I like you better when you smoke, you’re nicer to me.”

“Fuck you,” she murmured in a strained voice, head tipped back as she exhaled. 

“Never mind,” he muttered, feigning heartbreak. “Was nice while it lasted.”

She took another hit before passing the joint back to him. “We should go back upstairs after this. I’m not quite through with you yet.”

“Oh, now what does that mean?” 

She got up, pushed her chair back under the table, and lowered herself onto his lap.

“It means I had a very good time last night, but I’m not letting you leave here until you fuck me again, at least once.” 

She saw a little sparkle in his eyes, and she knew that she had him. Maybe Amanda was right.

They traded cheek and forehead smooches while they finished off the joint, and drifted back upstairs to continue the previous night’s activities.

\---

A few days later, he texted her out of the blue as he often did with details of his newest conquest.

_ So I hooked up with the doctor next door-- Lawrence. He was good, holy fuck. Really sweet, too. He’s kind of a boring old man, but oh well. _

Lynn had to restrain herself from laughing out loud, as she was at the hospital, walking right beside Lawrence.

__ _ Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. But what do you mean by boring old man? _

_ I let him pick the music and he wanted to listen to classical something or other. He smoked with me a little, but didn’t want much because he was working the next day. Which, I suppose, was today, so I’m sorry if he looks a little rough. Don’t get me wrong, 10/10 would bang again, but he just surprised me.  _

__ _ Well, I’m glad that I have retained my status as matchmaker. Now, are you planning on hooking up again? _

__ _ We’ve talked threesome, apparently his boyfriend thinks I’m attractive as well. I mean, we’ll probably have more one on one time also, but you know how it goes. _

Lawrence knew by instinct who Lynn was texting, and elbowed her teasingly. She looked up slightly to meet his gaze, and laughed when he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Has he said anything about me?” Lawrence pressed.

“He said he had a good time,” she answered in a mock-serious voice, locking her phone and placing it in the pocket of her scrubs.

“And?” Lawrence held up his cane in front of her to stop her from walking further.

“And he looks forward to a potential threesome with you and your boyfriend,” Lynn answered, turning back to face him with a teasing grin.

“ _ And?” _

Lynn deliberated for a moment, before giggling. “He said you act like an old man!” 

She darted off like a child, and Lawrence let her go, shaking his head and smiling after her. 

“You’re a nerd,” he reminded her, when she inevitably came back to gauge his reaction to her antics.

“You’re more of a nerd.” She stretched onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Hey, do you and Adam want to come over tonight?”

“Possibly. What’s the occasion?”

“We just want to have a movie night. Make some popcorn, invite friends over.”

“Will that include, er, you know…?” He raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow and Lynn rolled her eyes with a heaving sigh.

“It can include Mark, yes. Assuming he’s on the day shift like he’s supposed to be. You never know quite when they’re going to make him work lately,” she murmured with a sigh.

“Text him and invite him!” Lawrence insisted, shaking her arm gently.

“I will, I promise,” she reassured him. “I gotta go, though, okay? I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back from him.” She squeezed his hand before departing to consult with a patient, and as she started to walk away, she felt something land on the back of her head. She turned around to see the other doctor’s back turned, whistling in a fake display of innocence. She picked up the balled-up piece of paper and threw it with all the grace she’d possessed in college softball, watching it land squarely against the side of his face before making her exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapters will hopefully be soon to come! Stay tuned!


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